Garden of Silver E-Book

Arnella Hobler

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: Leaves of Holly
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 400

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

After escaping the capital together, Ivy and Drystan are now fugitives and have taken refuge in the wilderness. As tensions are brewing between them following the events in the capital, Ivy questions whether she can trust him. But a secret mission is soon underway, and allies are few. In her quest to prove herself worthy again to the Mother Goddess, Ivy sets off to find the mythical place called Arden. With Drystan by her side, she must travel both the woodlands of Mórceath as well as the far seas to the empire of Miras - and there are plenty of obstacles on the way. In this second instalment of the Leaves of Holly trilogy, Ivy faces her greatest challenge yet. It is a journey of sacrifice and intrigue - but also of love and trust, loss and grief. Will she succeed in her mission? And how much is she willing to sacrifice for it?

Leseprobe

Contents

Recap of Leaves of Holly

Character List by Origin

A Dalliance in the Past

Refuge

The Pretender Heir

Pyre and Ruin

Son of a Merchant

Sacred Lands

The Guardians

The House by the River

Merchants of Mórceath

Aboard The Peahen

The City of the Sun

A Delicate Matter

The Emperor's Daughter

The Blue-Eyed Girl

Scorned

Dire News

A Secret Long Buried

An Unexpected Request

The Fair Siren

Tales from the Old Vineyard

Into the Woods

Dissonance in Cordoire

Part I

Under the Mound

Dissonance in Cordoire

Part II

Worthy

Out of the Mist

Partings

The Spectre Queen

Dear Reader

Recap of Leaves of Holly

Ivy Wilson came to the realm of Mórceath during a magical festival called The Reaping. She and all the other Newcomers were placed in different towns around the country and began working for local lords or establishments. Ivy thus became a kitchen maid in the castle of Port Casleán, the seat of High Lord Caradoc. There, she made a new friend in fellow kitchen maid Nirma, who helped her as she struggled to settle in her new home. Not long after, it became known that she had been blessed with magical powers by the Mother Goddess – and was therefore destined to become the next Monarch. Almost overnight, Ivy was elevated from the kitchens to the nobles' apartments of the castle, and began spending her days being tutored by Gweneth, the High Scholar.

However, things were not that straight-forward. The country was struggling with famine and failed crops, and Ivy was a Newcomer, knowing nothing of this land. She was thrust into the intrigues of the nobles and immediately found discord when deciding to visit the island of Dalmor. The Dalmorians had once been a people of Mórceath, but they had been exiled for treason committed centuries ago. The people of the mainland refused any contact with them, and prejudice was rife on both ends. So when their messenger approached Ivy in secret, she accepted the invitation and left without telling anyone.

On Dalmor, Ivy made friends with King Renlyr and his son, Prince Drystan. Her visit was as interesting as it was enlightening, as King Renlyr admitted his wish to return his people to the mainland. They wanted to reclaim the fourth province, Creagán, which had been their ancestral home before their banishment to the island. There was also romantic tension between Ivy and Prince Drystan, whose character was rather outspoken and fiercely determined.

Her acceptance of the Dalmorians wasn’t appreciated by her allies in Mórceath. Her new connection was deemed a threat by the nobles, and she was advised to accompany High Lady Elúnedin to Fionnall; conveniently located on the other side of the country. Elúnedin was a woman of great poise and dignity whom Ivy looked up to, but her behaviour became secretive as soon as they arrived at the Dún Fionnall palace. Ivy then spent her time with Lord Arion, Elúnedin's brother, and fellow Newcomer Kieran who was in a relationship with Arion.

During her stay there, Ivy found out about a secret enterprise that Elúnedin was conducting. She was using a sacred magical stream to create a soothing drug and distributing it not only around Mórceath, but to other countries as well. Understanding this to be the reason why the Mother Goddess was punishing them with wilting crops, Ivy decided to leave. She was then forced into confronting Elúnedin about it; an encounter which created hostility and resulted in Elúnedin trying to stop Ivy from leaving. Using her magical powers, she teleported herself into the woods in a desperate attempt to get away from the guards.

After finding her way to the Market, Ivy bought passage to Port Casleán with a travelling merchant. Upon her arrival, she found that High Lord Caradoc had been arrested for treason against the Queen. He had been taken to the capital awaiting trial, and his seat was usurped by Lady Briallen – Elúnedin's cousin and ally. The whole city was occupied by soldiers from both Fionnall and the capital. With the help of her new friends, the Dalmorians, Ivy conducts a daring plan to have the city reclaimed. In exchange for their help, the Dalmorians were now free to enter the mainland via Port Casleán. King Renlyr was among the defenders and was mortally wounded in the battle – making Prince Drystan the new leader of the Dalmorians. Ivy then travels to the capital, Dún Cordoire, to try and have Caradoc released. On the way there, fear and anxiety hit her hard and she used Elúnedin’s drug to be able to cope in the dark forest.

In the capital, Ivy failed to convince the unstable Queen Derwenna of Caradoc’s innocence and he was sentenced to death at his trial. Not long after, the Dalmorians arrived in the capital, led by Prince Drystan. Seeking justice, Drystan wanted the Monarch Stone from Queen Derwenna as assurance that she wouldn’t use it to send his people back into exile, just like her predecessor had done many centuries before. She refused to give its location, and Derwenna was then imprisoned during the search for the Stone. Meanwhile, Ivy realised that she had lost her magic after using the drug. This could only mean one thing; she was no longer heir to the throne. She confides in Drystan and they grow closer, eventually having their first kiss.

A group of supporters of Ivy then devised a plan to rescue the dying Derwenna and go and get the Stone for Ivy, still believing her to be the heir. She then tried to get Drystan on their side, but he remained obstinate in his view of Derwenna and warned Ivy against trying to free her. She goes through with it anyway, but the attempt fails as they are intercepted by Elúnedin’s guards. Derwenna gave Ivy the location of the Stone in her last breaths, and Ivy is then imprisoned. After a few days, she’s rescued by Drystan and they flee the capital together. Ivy is now on a quest to redeem herself to the Mother Goddess, to once again be judged worthy of becoming the next Queen.

Character List by Origin

CASLEÁN

IVY – Newcomer and Lady of Casleán.

CARADOC – Former High Lord of Casleán, died in Leaves of Holly.

CADMON – New High Lord of Casleán after his brother Caradoc’s death. Friend and ally of Ivy.

FREIDA – Cadmon's spouse, originally from Tyr. They have daughters Daera and Dyllis together.

GWENETH – High Scholar of Casleán. Ivy’s tutor during her stay there.

CADEL – Scout tasked by Caradoc to help and support Ivy once she left Casleán.

MORA – Scout tasked by Caradoc to help and support Ivy and act as her personal maid. Died in Leaves of Holly.

NIRMA – Friend of Ivy's. Worked in the castle kitchens before Ivy took her to Fionnall to start musician's training.

BRIALLEN – Lady of Casleán, cousin to Elúnedin and Arion on her mother's side.

FIONNALL

ELÚNEDIN – High Lady of Fionnall.

LISANIA – Sister to the Emperor of Miras. Wife of Erwin and mother of Elúnedin and Arion.

ERWIN – High Lord of Fionnall before Elúnedin. Father to Elúnedin and Arion, husband of Lisania.

ARION – Lord of Fionnall. Brother of Elúnedin and boyfriend of Kieran. Friend and ally of Ivy.

KIERAN – Newcomer who lives in Fionnall. Boyfriend of Lord Arion. Friend of Ivy.

CORDOIRE

DERWENNA – The late Queen, died in Leaves of Holly.

HALBERT – Elf who works as Castle Keeper in the palace of Dún Cordoire (the capital).

DALMOR

DRYSTAN – Prince of Dalmor, love interest and supporter of Ivy.

RENLYR – Former King of Dalmor and father to Drystan. Died in Leaves of Holly.

ADRIENNA – Scout and ex-girlfriend of Drystan. Daughter of Corren.

CATHREN – Scout and friend of Drystan. Supporter of Ivy.

CORREN – Scholar and advisor to the late King Renlyr. Father of Adrienna.

MADDOCK – Young warrior in the Dalmorian army.

MIRAS

ARDESHIR – Vizier to Emperor Miraldir. Love interest of Elúnedin when they were teenagers.

MIRINA – Wife of Ardeshir and mother of Sandrina.

MIRALDIR – Emperor of Miras and father of Lasrania. Elúnedin and Arion's uncle.

ISME – Wife of Miraldir and mother of Lasrania.

LASRANIA – Princess of Miras, and daughter of Emperor Miraldir and Queen Isme.

SANDRINA – Friend of Lasrania and daughter of Ardeshir and Mirina.

NURALDIN – Vizier to Emperor Miraldir. Lasrania has a crush on him.

BARALDIN – Grand Vizier and Chief of Justice. Father of Mirina.

EHSAN – Head servant of the women's quarters.

TARA – Court medicine woman.

OTHER

BERTU – Elf and Wayfinder. Found Ivy in the woods during The Reaping.

1

A Dalliance in the Past

Seventeen years prior, a teenage Elúnedin entered the Emperor’s private gardens. Her eyes scanned the crowd as she walked arm in arm with her brother, Arion. It was a particularly hot autumn night in the capital, which also happened to be the third night in a row of celebrations for the Emperor’s birthday. The siblings walked passed the same nobles and vizier families as were always present. Most of them were busy watching the magicians performing extravagant tricks causing sparks, flashing lights and colourful smoke around the whole garden. Elúnedin and Arion didn’t stop to join them. She steered her brother by his arm, continuing her search. Arion gave his sister a playful look.

‘Looking for someone special?’

‘Perhaps,’ she replied casually.

He rolled his eyes as they walked along the garden path towards the Emperor’s pavilion, silently nodding at acquaintances they passed. Elúnedin slowed down once her eyes finally found her target; he was standing with a group of viziers by a grand fountain.

‘I will be back in a moment,’ she whispered to Arion, and before he could protest she had let go of his arm and was heading in the direction of the fountain. The young man had seen her approach, and he quietly removed himself from the group to meet her.

‘The stars shine bright tonight,’ he said as she approached, followed by a respectful bow.

She gave him a courteous nod in return, retaining their eye contact. At first glance, she knew she looked similar to the other noblewomen of Miras – but her striking blue eyes, a feature inherited from her Fionnall father, were something that she knew set her apart from all the others.

‘I’m sure they do. If only we could see them for all the sparks and smoke,’ replied Elúnedin in flawless Mirasi, gesturing towards the magicians.

‘You may mock our traditions, but not all of us are fortunate enough to have real magic in our land.’

She smiled, not knowing what to say. Ardeshir had that effect on her; he was the most handsome young man she had ever met. He was tall, and despite being only eighteen he had a strong jawline with a short, well-groomed beard. His black hair was neatly combed to the side, not a single strand out of place. Then there was his voice. Deep and smooth, Elúnedin had to stop herself from quivering whenever he spoke. This was their third meeting, and she had thought of little else the whole day in anticipation.

‘I hope you’ve found your stay here satisfactory so far?’ he asked as he gave her his arm.

‘It has always been satisfactory,’ she answered as she took it, and they began walking about the area. ‘I have come here nearly every year since I was a child.’

‘In some ways, you still are.’

Elúnedin straightened her back.

‘I would argue that fifteen is closer to adulthood than to childhood...although it depends on the person.’

They passed a group of whispering and giggling girls, mostly daughters of viziers and other nobles. Elúnedin rolled her eyes at them in an effort to separate herself from that which she deemed silly and shallow.

‘That is true,’ answered Ardeshir, also giving the giggling girls a judgemental look. Elúnedin smiled. She had always felt older than her years and made a conscious effort to be perceived that way. It pleased her enormously whenever she felt successful in doing so.

‘I believe your brother is trying to get your attention,’ said Ardeshir, and Elúnedin turned around. Arion was signalling for her to accompany him to the Emperor’s pavilion.

‘I must go and greet the Emperor, my parents are waiting. ’

Ardeshir turned as if to walk away from her, and just as he passed her shoulder, he said in a low voice, ‘There is a fine carp pond on the eastern side of the garden. Will you join me in admiring it afterwards? ’

Elúnedin gave him a smile at the corner of her mouth, and left without confirming his request.

She and Arion went with their parents to greet Emperor Miraldir, their uncle, and Isme, his wife. After the usual pleasantries were over and done with, they re-entered the gardens where they were offered pomegranate wine by a server. They both grimaced as they had their first sip.

‘As usual, this is too acidic. I miss our own wine,’ sighed Arion.

‘Can I ask you a favour?’

Arion raised his eyebrows inquisitively.

‘Will you help me keep mother and father away? I’m off to meet with Ardeshir

Arion groaned.

‘Why him, though? He’s not even a real lord...’

Elúnedin gave him a sharp look. ‘His family may not be noble, but they are among the wealthiest in Miras. Far wealthier than many real lords.’

‘Yes, but still...’

‘Have you forgotten how I covered for you on the ship over here when you met up with that kitchen boy? I never make any judgemental remarks to you.’

‘Shhl’ said Arion, his face reddening. Elúnedin knew she had hit a sensitive subject, but she wasn’t afraid to use all means necessary to get what she wanted.

‘Fine, I will help you. But what will I say?’

‘Thank you, dear,’ she said and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Just say that I’m off with Mirina and the other girls.’

‘They would sooner believe that you’re off on a fishing trip...’ Arion muttered in response, but his sister was already moving between the guests toward her secret meeting.

Elúnedin made her way through the garden towards the eastern orchard. She passed many lanes of orange trees before she found it; the grand magnolia tree that she knew had the carp pond behind it. Her heart skipped a beat as she turned the corner.

She approached the pond, finding the area seemingly deserted. She stood by the edge, her hand resting on the cool marble surface. Within seconds, there were footsteps behind her. She did not turn.

‘You made me wait,’ said Ardeshir’s deep, soothing voice as he came up behind her. Elúnedin suppressed the pleasing effect it had on her.

‘Perhaps I should have kept you waiting a bit longer/ she answered playfully.

‘You tease me. As much as I enjoy it...’ he said as he placed his hand on her waist and leaned closer to her cheek, ‘I think I have waited long enough.’

Elúnedin gave in. She turned around, unable to resist any longer. He kissed her assertively, his hands firmly gripping her waist and neck. She curved her body to meet his as close as possible – this was getting very real, very fast. Her heartbeat was in her throat. She couldn’t tell whether she was even ready for this, as all she could think of was to not let him know that this was her first kiss.

The sudden sound of voices approaching made them freeze and listen. Apparently, they weren’t the only ones to sneak off for a private meeting. With one last look, Elúnedin broke away from him and walked off in the opposite direction. No matter how much her whole being was longing for him, her reputation must always come first.

2

Refuge

Ivy looked around in the darkness, anxiously hoping that there would be some kind of sign or mark to help guide them to the cave. The trees cast long shadows, as though shielding the riverbank from unwanted visitors. Peering through the thick foliage on the left side of the bank, Ivy finally spotted something that seemed out of place there; a limestone rock.

‘There!’ she said, pointing at the white stone. ‘That must be it.’

Drystan nodded and began rowing them towards the bank. Ivy felt dizzy after disembarking, having spent several hours in the unstable river currents. They hid the boat in a bush, and Drystan rolled the limestone rock into the river to remove any hints of their whereabouts.

Ivy began examining the cliff walls along the shore, and it didn’t take long before she found some loose foliage which, once shifted, revealed an opening.

‘Here it is.’

They entered with some uncertainty. It had a narrow tunnel leading into a cave, from which came the unmistakable smell and sound of a campfire. Drystan gestured for Ivy to get behind him. He retrieved his crossbow from his back before leading them further inside, towards the flickering orange light at the other end.

‘Who’s there? Announce yourself.’ he said, his voice echoing along the cold, damp walls.

As they entered the heart of the cave, they found the refuge that had been prepared, along with a man lying on fur bedding on the floor.

‘Cadel!’ said Ivy, darting past Drystan towards him. ‘I’m so relieved you’re alive!’

‘I would have announced myself, but I knew not if you were friend or foe,’ replied Cadel as he tried to sit up but fell back with a grunt, grimacing as though in great pain.

‘You’re injured,’ said Drystan as he removed his pack. ‘We have some medical supplies, let me help you.’

Cadel looked at him with hesitation, and then back at Ivy who was busy taking off her cloak and putting it over his legs. Eventually, he nodded.

‘I took an arrow in the shoulder as I fled...I could use some help with the wound.’

He looked pale, as if he had lost a lot of blood. Ivy had never seen Cadel as old, but the lines on his face were distinct now, clearly showing his true age as much older than she had initially thought. Drystan retrieved a flask of water and supplies from their bags to clean, stitch and dress the wound.

‘Tell me how...how you got out,’ asked Cadel with another grunt as Drystan began working on his wound. It had a pungent smell to it from not having been properly cleaned for several days.

Ivy went on to tell him of Elúnedin; how she had bargained with Corren for her freedom and gone on to present Ivy with an ultimatum – that she could either cooperate with her or remain imprisoned.

‘It was Drystan who rescued me, with the help of Cathren and a few other Dalmorians.’

‘Cathren...did she escape, too?’

‘Yes,’ replied Ivy. Cadel’s breathing became more strained. Ivy wasn’t sure if she should talk about Mora. She still had trouble getting the image of Mora’s death out of her head, and she was sure it was even worse for him. Based on the tension rising from his silence, she decided to leave it. She went on to assist Drystan with the wound, and by the time they were finished, the campfire had almost died out.

‘I will go and collect some more firewood,’ said Drystan as he put away the supplies.

‘I can do it,’ said Ivy, but he had already risen.

‘No, it’s safer for you in here,’ he said as he put on his hood and fastened the crossbow onto his back. ‘I won’t be long.’

As Drystan’s footsteps faded into the tunnel, Ivy helped Cadel move closer to the dying fire.

‘I’m glad he values your safety above his own,’ said Cadel.

‘Yes...at least of that, I have no doubts,’ said Ivy.

‘Where will you go from here?’

Ivy hesitated before she replied. She tried to determine if Drystan was still within earshot, but only hearing the flowing river outside, she concluded that it would surely block their conversation from being overheard.

‘I need to get to a place called Arden,’ she said carefully. ‘Do you know where it is?’

‘Arden?’ Cadel repeated, seemingly surprised. ‘I have heard of it...but I don’t think it’s a place you can just go to, it’s scarcely more than a myth.’

‘Well, I’ll need to find it nonetheless. Do you know anything at all about it?’

‘It is said to be a sacred place, one where the magical and divine resides. But that is all tell-tale – children’s stories. I doubt anyone would be able to find it – if it even exists. Maybe ask an elf, a wayfinder, to be exact. I wish I could be of more help.’

‘So, to find an elf – I suppose we would have to go to the Market? ’

‘That is usually where they gather,’ answered Cadel, and his expression turned troubled. ‘I have to ask you – and you must forgive my imprudence – but do you trust the Dalmorian Prince?’

Ivy contemplated her answer for a moment.

‘I want to, but only time will tell, I suppose.’

Cadel’s troubled look deepened, and Ivy decided to change the subject.

‘What about you; what will you do now?’

‘You are my Queen; I will do as you command. If you need my help in anything at all –’

Ivy looked down at the fur beddings they were sitting on.

‘I don’t feel like I’m in any position to give commands at the moment,’ she said, just as she heard Drystan re-entering the cave. ‘But if you want my opinion, I think you should focus on healing for now.’

Cadel scoffed.

‘I must have a purpose. That is what I’m used to, to work day and night if needed and serve my liege the best way I can. But now, I’ve spent days in this cave with nothing but my own misery for company. I might as well have died that night, too...’

His voice broke off, and he looked at Drystan as he put more wood onto the fire. Ivy suspected that he was uncomfortable with his presence.

‘Give me an assignment,’ he said with decisiveness, looking back at her. ‘It would be my greatest honour to serve you, and it would keep my mind occupied.’

The pain reflected in his eyes made Ivy’s heart swell with sympathy. She knew she could never tell him the truth now; how she had lost her status as Heir and was only stalling as she tried to find a way to get it back. If she had been honest and told him as soon as she had found out – then they might never have gone through with the plan of saving Queen Derwenna...and Mora would still be alive. If she told him now, it would be impossible for him not to blame her. Ivy took a deep breath, pushing away those unpleasant thoughts.

‘Once you’re healed, you should return to Port Casleán. I heard from Head Scholar Gweneth that Lord Cadmon is struggling in his new position as High Lord, and I’m sure he could use your support.’

Cadel bowed his head in affirmation. There was a slight tingling sensation in her gut as Ivy gave him the assignment. She felt satisfied knowing how helpful it would be for Cadmon to have a loyal kinsman back at his side.

They went on to share a modest meal consisting of dry biscuits and tea, and then they took turns keeping watch in the tunnel throughout the night as the others slept. It was a quiet night apart from the usual sounds of the forest; the crickets and flowing river, an occasional owl, gusts of wind ruffling the leaves.

Ivy slept badly, plagued by intense nightmares of her captivity. That damp, cold cell and its crushing darkness had made such a strong impression that Ivy was convinced it had all been a dream – that Drystan and Cadel were nothing but her delirious imagination holding on to hope.

Ivy woke with a start at the crack of dawn. Disoriented and clammy, she didn’t immediately recognise her surroundings. For a moment, the image of the cell still lingered on her consciousness, but then her gaze found Cadel sleeping close by and Drystan sitting alone in the tunnel. Relieved, she dried off her face with her cloak.

The light in the cave was completely changed; during the night the warmth from the fire had made it feel safe, even somewhat cosy. But now the fire was out, and the grey light of dawn had replaced it with a sense of coldness and urgency.

Drystan handed Ivy a set of fresh scouting clothes from the bag. They were made of a fine, mossy green wool with the Dalmorian crest embroidered on the chest. She accepted them gratefully, and after washing themselves in the river and eating some biscuits, Ivy and Drystan helped Cadel with his wound again to make sure it was healing properly. Then it was time for them to depart, and Cadel managed to stand up as they said their goodbyes.

‘I wish you a safe journey to Port Casleán, and that I will see you again someday, wherever that may be.’

Cadel took her hand and bowed his head.

‘You have your task, and now I have mine. I feel certain our paths will cross again.’

Drystan then held out his hand, and Cadel shook it respectfully.

‘I know you don’t think much of me, or my kin,’ said Drystan, ‘but I can assure you that we are allies.’

‘I did not, at first. But you have helped me in my need, and you are keeping Lady Ivy safe when I myself cannot, and for this, I owe you my gratitude.’

He bowed his head to him as well.

Ivy and Drystan went on to fetch the boat from the bush and put it back in the water. As they were putting all the bags inside, Drystan turned to her.

‘Are you going to tell me where we are going?’

There was tension in the air as he spoke. Ivy wondered if he had heard her conversation with Cadel from the previous night.

‘Well... first of all, we need to get to the Market.’

He sighed and nodded, pushing them away from the shore with the oars and beginning to paddle upstream. Ivy was relieved that he didn’t ask any more questions, but she knew she couldn’t hide it from him for much longer. In many ways, she did trust him, but when it came to finding the Monarch Stone she was more wary. The last time they spoke of it his features had turned dark and vengeful. He had a desire for it that she couldn’t comprehend, and it had been strong enough for him to reveal her and Cadel’s plan to free Queen Derwenna. Yes, she thought, she had good reason to be careful.

After a few hours, they concluded that they must be close enough to the road, so they hid the boat again in a bush and continued south on foot. They stopped a couple of times to scout before they found it; the main road that connected Dún Cordoire with the Market. As it would be too risky to travel by the road itself, they continued slightly to the side, but remained within full view of it. Ivy had learned her lesson never to stray too far from the road, at least not without a guide.

It was a slow walk with tree roots and undergrowth hindering their steps. As they walked in silence, Ivy sensed an awkwardness between them. She knew he wasn’t happy with how secretive she had been about their plans – and neither was she. She had always been honest with him before and it hurt her to hide things from him now.

As if he had sensed her thoughts, Drystan finally broke the silence.

‘I understand why you may feel hesitant to trust me again, given everything that happened back in Dún Cordoire. I would be hesitant, too.’

They were walking side by side, and Ivy turned to look at him. He did not meet her gaze, however, but continued peering forward, scanning the surroundings for hidden threats. She had a feeling it was difficult for him to admit this, and decided not to push the issue.

‘Let’s just give it some time,’ she replied and turned her own gaze back at the forest floor.

They continued walking like this, but at least the silence wasn’t as pressing anymore. After a while, the sound of horses approached from behind.

‘Hide,’ said Drystan, and with his hand on her back they both crouched down behind a large tree trunk. This sudden fear seemed to put all of Ivy’s senses on high alert. She hardly dared to breathe, as if the smallest of movements would give them away.

They watched as a group of horsemen passed in great haste. They looked like rangers, and wore both Cordoire as well as Dalmorian crests. Ivy and Drystan exchanged looks. It appeared as though they were heading for the Market, too. But that was a problem for later.

They continued even more carefully than before. Every little sound made them stop and hide, and with every passing hour, Ivy became more and more paranoid. What would happen if they got caught now? What if someone was watching them from the forest, quietly spying in case they let slip some valuable information? Ivy shivered and pulled her cloak closer to her body.

Darkness fell, and they were forced to stop for the night. They gathered some branches and foliage to use as makeshift shelter and managed to settle in just in time for the forest to cover them in complete darkness. Ivy thought of that awful event that had been her last time spending the night in the wild like this, and how different it felt this time. Wrapped in her woollen travelling cloak, she curled up next to Drystan who put his arm around her. His embrace felt warm...and safe. Exhaustion quickly came over her, and she was asleep within seconds.

It was early dawn when she awoke, and Drystan was already up and digging through their supplies. Ivy yawned and stretched her arms, her back aching from too many nights in a row of sleeping on hard ground.

‘Good morning.’ Drystan handed her a biscuit, which she accepted without a word. ‘Tired?’ he asked. ‘I would’ve thought you slept quite heavily...given the snoring.’

Ivy gasped.

‘I do not snore,’ she said curtly, and Drystan gave her a cheeky smile. This small exchange seemed to lift the tension that was simmering between them, and Ivy was happy to see something of his old self again.

They went on to dismantle the shelter and cover their tracks as well as possible, and by the time daylight began to peer through the treetops, they resumed their journey southward.

3

The Pretender Heir

It was one more day of arduous hiking before they finally reached the Market. The closer they got, the more difficult it became as there were numerous guard patrols to avoid. Ivy recognised the guard station close to the entrance, it was similar to the one that had stopped the caravan she had travelled with to Port Casleán. They watched it from their hiding spot in the forest. A barricade stopped any travellers from entering before they had announced their identity and purpose, and the guards were handing out scrolls to anyone that passed through.

Drystan gestured for Ivy to follow him. Keeping their hoods over their faces, they moved carefully around the outskirts until they found a hiding place in the southeastern corner where they waited for sundown.

‘Well, we’re here,’ said Drystan as he inspected the thick bushes around them to make sure they were covered. ‘What comes next?’

‘We need to hire a wayfinder to help us get to the next location.’

‘A wayfinder?’ he repeated with a puzzled look.

‘An elf, you know, like Halbert at the palace only a little more...rough around the edges,’ said Ivy, realising that Halbert probably wasn’t the best comparison.

He gave her a sceptical nod.

‘I’ll go and find one, it’s not safe for you to move around with all the guards,’ he said.

‘You know they are most likely looking for both of us,’ said Ivy, giving him a sharp look.

‘Indeed – but one of us is stealthier than the other.’

Ivy let out a subtle grunt to show her disapproval, but she knew he was correct.

‘Fine, but I need someone specific. His name is Bertu; red hair, bushy beard, grumpy look on his face. I hope he’s at the inn somewhere, I think that’s where they congregate.’

Drystan nodded.

‘Keep quiet and out of sight. I will be back soon.’

As he left to go and look for Bertu, Ivy immediately felt the sting of abandonment. The longer she waited, the more worried she became, and it was quickly getting unbearable. Had he been caught? Would she even know if he had? There would likely be a lot of commotion in that case, but she wouldn’t see it from where she was hiding. Her heart jumped on two separate occasions; once when a drunk man went into the bushes to relieve himself (Ivy held her breath and hoped he wouldn’t get too close to her) and another time a guard patrol walked dangerously close to her hiding place, causing her to seriously consider moving further into the forest.

After a while, the outline of two approaching figures emerged between the trees – one tall, one short. As they got closer, she could hear the short one muttering something about never once having accepted a job without knowing who was hiring him nor where he was going. She made a sigh of relief – that definitely sounded like Bertu.

‘Will you lower your voice?’ whispered Drystan, sounding agitated, and Ivy suppressed a chuckle.

She turned around just in time for them to enter the hideout, and Bertu stopped in his tracks the very moment he laid eyes on Ivy.

‘Ah,’ he said, although his bad-tempered expression remained unchanged.

‘Now you see why I couldn’t tell you?’ said Drystan.

‘I do – but that doesn’t mean I’ve accepted the job! I still need to know where we’re going.’

Ivy looked at Drystan quickly before replying. There was no point in keeping it from him any longer. As long as he was on this journey with her, she had no choice but to trust him.

‘Do you know of a place called Arden?’ she asked.

Bertu scoffed.

‘That is not exactly a short excursion,’ he muttered, crossing his arms.

‘But you know where it is?’ asked Ivy again, this time with a rush of excitement. Drystan looked curiously at the elf as well – it was clear he had never heard of it before.

‘Of course I know where it is – I’m a wayfinder. But for such a long journey I will need at least fifty ambers.’

‘You do not know to whom you are speaking, elf,’ said Drystan harshly.

‘Don’t take that tone with me, young lad!’ answered Bertu, seemingly affronted by this comment. ‘If there’s no payment, then I must suppose my services are no longer required...’

‘Wait – don’t listen to him – I will of course make sure you are paid for your services,’ Ivy added quickly. ‘I don’t have that kind of coin on me right now, but I promise you will get it afterwards.’

Bertu looked at her for a moment, and his expression softened. Then he turned back to Drystan.

‘You are wrong, actually. I do know to whom I am speaking,’ he said, followed by a shrug and a sigh. ‘I suggest you find shelter a bit further in the forest, the guards patrol the woodland borders during the night.’ He turned away, but just before leaving he added, ‘I will find you in the morning – we will leave at dawn.’

He made a quick nod towards Ivy before going back to the Market, muttering ‘the nerve of some folk’ as he walked.

Ivy and Drystan followed his advice and moved further away from the Market area. It was no easy task navigating through the dense undergrowth in the dark, but eventually they found a bush where they made camp.

‘I assume you’ve met that elf before, then?’ asked Drystan as they settled into their new hideout.

‘Yes – he was the one who collected me from the woods on the day of the Reaping,’ answered Ivy, her thoughts going back to that morning; the mist, the glittering morning dew on the moss. The neighbour’s son, Andrew, lying dead beside her.

‘I was surprised by his reaction,’ said Drystan and shifted some– what to retrieve something from his pocket, ‘because of this.’

He handed her a rolled up piece of parchment, and lit a small candle to help her see it better.

Ivy found herself looking at a crude drawing of her own face, along with the text BEWARE THE PRETENDER HEIR underneath. She handed it back to him with a sigh.

‘There are Heralds stationed outside the inn and all over the Market, handing these out to people. They’re saying that you’re plotting against the Queen, and that your claim is false. Nothing about Queen Derwenna’s death...and nothing about me.’

‘Oh? That’s odd.’

‘It’s not that odd when you think about it,’ said Drystan. ‘Corren wouldn’t want our reputation to get even worse than it already is. For the Dalmorian Prince to run off with the pretender heir; it would completely diminish our hope for acceptance here. We would be tainted by association.’

Ivy thought back to a conversation she had with Gweneth in the Port Casleán library. Everyone can be predictable, as long as you understand what motivates them. She was suddenly hit by the urge to go back there – to the only place she regarded as home – but she brushed away the thought. Arden was a more pressing matter than any sentimental whims.

‘I suppose you’re correct,’ she said. ‘But then why call me a pretender? Elúnedin would know that I could easily disprove that if I still had my heir abilities. She must know that I don’t have them anymore. But how?’

There was an uncomfortable silence as she said this.

‘I promise you – I haven’t told anyone. I hope you know that.’

‘Yes...I know,’ said Ivy as they laid down to sleep. Despite her body being exhausted from days of hiking, her mind was wide awake from worry. She had her head on Drystan’s chest, feeling it rise and drop with every breath. His heart rate was slow and steady – in fact, he always seemed calm no matter the gravity of the situation.

Comforted by his presence, she was eventually lulled to sleep.

‘You call this a shelter? I could have found you with my eyes closed!’

It was so early that the sun had barely reached the treetops – and yet Bertu stood before them, backpack on his shoulders and walking stick in hand.

‘It would have been a better one had I actually seen what I was doing...’ said Drystan with a flustered look at the elf.

‘No cart this time?’ asked Ivy as she rubbed her aching neck and back.

‘Pfft, I would like to see you try and steer a cart through the undergrowth! No – we will not be seeing any roads for quite some time now.’

Ivy and Drystan shared a biscuit as they and Bertu covered the tracks of their shelter, and within minutes they were off, with Bertu leading them further south. Ivy had mixed feelings as she and Drystan followed closely behind him. On one hand, she was happy to be going towards her goal with someone knowledgeable who had the motive of helping her – but on the other, she was apprehensive about reaching her goal with Drystan while his true motives were still unclear. She couldn’t shake the worry of what would happen when they got there – when she got the Monarch Stone. Would he go as far as to try and take it from her?

Ivy glanced over at Drystan as they walked. He wore his usual determined look, and she was reminded of how difficult he was to read at times. She realised she should have talked to him about this earlier, that it was no longer possible now that Bertu was with them.

The first day of their journey moved along smoothly, with little conversation and only a couple of small breaks. As darkness fell, Bertu built them a shelter close to a small stream.

‘Wow, this is incredible,’ said Ivy as she crawled into it, astonished that the little hut seemed pretty much invisible from the outside yet also roomy and secure on the inside.

Bertu merely grunted in response.

‘I wonder if there’s any fish in that stream? I’m rather tired of those dry biscuits,’ said Drystan, pointing at the stream further downhill.

‘If there is,’ said Bertu, Then I will be the one to catch them. Why don’t you try and gather some wood and build a fire...unless such a task is above your skill level.’

With that, the elf retrieved some fishing equipment from his bag and proceeded to walk down the hill.

‘How is he allowed to behave this way?’ whispered Drystan, visibly annoyed as they began looking for suitable firewood. ‘Speaking in such a manner towards nobles should be a punishable offence.’

‘Well, I suppose wayfinders are a bit separate from the rest of society. But I’ve found that he warms up to you if you’re nice to him,’ answered Ivy, but Drystan didn’t seem too keen about that suggestion.

After a longed-for hot meal of grilled fish, Bertu went to discard the fishbones a bit further off to avoid attracting wild animals to their camp in the night. Ivy and Drystan entered the shelter feeling content. Ivy automatically curled up in his arms, as she had done the previous nights, even though the shelter was big enough for them to sleep separately.

Just as she was falling asleep, she felt a gentle kiss on the top of her head. Or did she? She wasn’t sure. It could have been a breeze...she was standing in a meadow, after all...on the other side of it, a stag was standing proudly, looking at her with fierce amber eyes. Ivy turned around and was surprised to find a high hedge. The morning sun made it sparkle as if it had just been raining. She recognised the hedge somehow, and began walking, tracing her fingers along its leaves. There was a gate here somewhere, she was sure of it...

‘Ivy?’

The distant sound of Drystan’s voice dragged her back from the hedge, everything was blurry for a moment, and then the cold air stung her cheeks. She opened her eyes, and within a few seconds, the outline of Drystan’s face came into view. His magnificent blue eyes looked worried.

‘You look unwell. Are you ill?’ he asked as he put his hand on her forehead. Ivy noticed that every inch of her body was clammy, and she was severely disoriented.

‘I’m fine,’ she said, ‘I just need some water...’

Bertu handed her a flask while giving her a suspicious look, but remained quiet.

After having convinced her two travel companions of her well-being, the hike southward continued in silence. Ivy was lost in thought. She had recognised the hedge from the dream – she had dreamt of it before; just as her heir abilities had been activated. But there was no noticeable change in her now, no humming next to her heart, no auras from the nature around her. She found herself longing for it, longing for that mysterious, magical force that made her feel powerful and significant. There had to be a way to get it back again – to prove herself worthy.

The forest was beginning to change in appearance. What was previously thick woods of beech and oak were replaced by a rocky, open landscape.

‘Wait, I need some water,’ said Ivy, and she and Drystan stopped so that she could get her flask from the bags. As they could now see ahead of them for a good distance, they let Bertu walk on for a bit, widening the distance between them.

‘This place that we’re going to...Arden...’ began Drystan, and Ivy immediately knew where this was going. She might as well get it over with.

‘Yes?’

‘It’s there, isn’t it? The Monarch Stone?’ he said, lowering his voice, although Bertu was already beyond earshot.

‘That depends,’ answered Ivy as they began walking again.

‘Depends? On what?’

‘On what you will do with that knowledge.’

‘Do you really not trust me at all?’ he asked.

‘I trust you – somewhat. I still don’t know all of your motives.’

Drystan stopped and turned towards her. He looked her straight in the eye, which Ivy wasn’t prepared for.

‘Would you feel safer if I left?’ he asked calmly. ‘I’m sure Bertu knows his way around, he wouldn’t lead you astray. That way, you won’t have to worry. I wouldn’t blame you if that was your decision.’

‘No!’ said Ivy a lot more sharply than intended, and she took a step closer, grabbing his hand. ‘I’m sorry if I gave that impression, I really don’t want you to leave.’

There was a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth as he raised her hand and kissed it gently. With that, she had her answer. It was unthinkable to have him leave her now.

‘Come, we better hurry to catch up with the elf...’

They picked up the pace to reach Bertu, who was waiting for them at the edge of a fir wood. As they entered it, they continued up an overgrown, sloping path. The ground was hard and rocky in many places, the air fresh and cool. Scattered all around them in these woods were large standing stones, sometimes solitary and sometimes in small clusters. Ivy looked at them as they walked past. They had carved text on them that was mostly covered by moss. A gust of wind brought a scent of sea air and fir needles. Ivy stopped for a moment, letting the others walk ahead. She looked more closely from one stone to another. The howl of the wind gave them an eerie impression, as though they were speaking to her in some cold, ancient language of nature. The longer she looked, the more she felt like something was watching from their shadows.

‘Ivy!’

Drystan’s voice woke her from her temporary trance. He and Bertu were waiting for her further up the overgrown path. She tore her gaze from the stones and hurried over.

They continued walking up the slope, and soon enough, the woods on their right side were replaced by a cliffside wall.

All of a sudden, Drystan stopped in his tracks.

Wait,’ he said, his voice sounding stern. The others stopped too and looked back at him.

‘Is this what I think it is? Where exactly are we?’ he said, pointing at something on the cliff wall. Ivy walked over to him and looked at it; sure enough, carved into the wall was a crest. It was faded by the years and was partially covered by moss, but it looked unmistakably like a crystal.

‘Bertu, is this really...?’

‘Yes,’ said Bertu, ‘we have just entered Creagán territory.’